


More than met the eye

by Lemon_person65



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Bullying, Cyber Bullying, Depression, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Split Timelines, Suicide, alt universe, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24611608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_person65/pseuds/Lemon_person65
Summary: After years of bullying from tG, John decides to finally do what hes been urging to do.
Relationships: (will be updated as we go)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Johns chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of bullying from tG, John decides to finally do what hes been urging to do.

John sat down, spinning slowly in his chair as he laughed softly. He pulled up to his computer. It was big and bulky. An old desktop, usually only seen in rundown public schools. The calendar brightly displayed a date like any other. Today was April thirteenth. Johns birthday.

Johns room didn't look like it was inhabited by a thirteen year old boy. Cakes and other pastries were half-hazerdly strewn over the floor and furniture in the room.

Posters were plastered over the walls and slanted ceiling, depicting bad rom-com movies. Most of the posters had different colored scrawl written over them, though John did not remember writing them.

A soft bling sound came from the speaker of the bulky desktop, signaling to John that someone was trying to reach him. He promptly opened a window of a text client called "Pesterchum". The screen lit up red from the text of a chum called TurntechGodhead.

John made a sad sigh, his happy demeanor suddenly disappearing. He had been hoping that David wouldn't try and talk to him on his birthday. The older, blonde boy always bullied him and it hurt.

He had tried to kill himself many more times than he had ever cared to count. His father always tried to help him get better but it was no use. John had about enough of David's mean words and tried blocking him though he always found a way back.

John closed down his desktop, ignoring all incoming messages. Even as the bright green text started to frantically pop up.

Him and all his friends were supposed to play the beta of a new game called sburb. John hoped that his disk would come in today, like a kind of birthday present from the universe.

John walked out of his room, running his hand along the wall and posters as he did. There was always at least one cake within a five foot radius of him as he walked down the stairs a bit sluggishly.

He quietly contemplated the irony of him dying on his birthday. He figured that David would get a kick out of it...

He's tried many things. He's tried to overdose but got caught and had his stomach pumped. He tried to slit his wrists but got interrupted. He even tried to electrocute himself but it didn't work.

He figured this time he should just try a gun. One through the chest. One through the head. He would do it when his dad went to the store today like he does every year. There should be a gun somewhere surely.

John continued down until he got to the living room. He glanced over a large present. Surely a harley quinn of some kind. He dismissed it and walked past, into the kitchen where he found his father.

The taller man stood with another cake in his hand, facing away from John. On the counter behind him sat an envelope with the sburb logo on the front, and his fathers pda.

He walked closer, hesitating on grabbing the folders that were clearly addressed to him. He quickly decided it was no use. Dad turned around and John smiled wryly.

"Son! Good to see you up!" He said and hugged the now panicked John. He started to spout off the normal, yearly, 'birthday dialogue' as John squirmed to get out of his grip. Dad suddenly let go, giving John a hearty pat on the back, almost knocking the young boy over.

John laughed softly without humor and watched his father leave for more cake mix.

John sighed, his hand shaking as he sprinted through the house, grabbing various things. He almost completely ignored the now constant notifications coming from his computer as he scrawled his newest note.

His last note.

His last goodbye.

This one was a lot longer than his previous ones. He felt like he had so much more to say and vent about.

I wish I could say that i'm sorry.  
But i'm done with sorry. You should know that by now. For so long i've put up with everything that was thrown at me. The names. The insults. The abuse. And it wasn't even abuse from a family member. Dad... you were the best parent I could honestly ask for and I know you've seen this written on paper so many times before. But I think I have more to say this time. No the abuse wasn't from you, but from David. Mister strider himself. Years. and. Years. When I first met him I thought he was this amazing and cool person but it got worse and worse. Till... This. David I really hope this teaches you a lesson. I really hope you get better. It would hurt so much to see you hurt Jade or Rose... And Jade. I know this is gonna be hard for you... you were always a sister to me... And Rose. Rose you always were there to.. analyze my dreams and stuff. I will really miss that honestly. I hope things get better for you three... Bye.  
-John

He threw the pencil down and grabbed the note, putting it in his shirt pocket.

Thick tears now streamed down his face and clung to his glasses. He knew that one of his friends knew what was happening. He went over to his computer and yanked the chord out of the wall, turning off the computer all the way.

He walked out of his room and scanned it one last time, his eye catching on the messages written across his wall. The intense self deprecating messages. He slammed the door and ran downstairs, swinging open the closet and reaching up for the pistol that he knew was there.

He felt the cold metal against his fingers and shivered. He grasped the small gun and brought it down. He grabbed his note and clutched it in his hand as he walked slowly into the living room.

There was no clean way to do this. His father would walk in and drop everything. He would see his own son. only thirteen. Laying limp on the floor, blood and gore flung behind him.

But what would John care. He would be dead. It would no longer be his problem. That thought relaxed him slowly.

He stood in the middle of the living room. Everything felt so loud. So quick. He felt as if he didn't do this now he would never have the chance to.

He flicked the safety off and pressed the tip to his temple. He didn't bother with his original plan. He just hoped and prayed that this would end it. He let out one last sob then pulled the trigger.

The gun fell to the ground with a clatter, landing next to the boys limp body. His fingers were loosely wrapped around the note, now blood splattered. The thick red liquid ran slowly into a puddle around the boys head and trickled down his torso. His raven black hair was wet and tinted red.

That's it. The end of his story. John Egbert. Dead.


	2. Davids chapter

David walked through the apartment. He had his shitty sword at his side incase Bro tried to come at him again. The thought of another fight made the bright white scars scattered across his face and torso itch.

  
The apartment was a disaster. Apple juice bottles and Doritos bags were scattered through the hall. Smuppets and various puppet parts dangled from the ceiling as David walked under them.

David was a short king at only five foot flat. His Bro stood strong at six foot four. He was big and muscular. He had a fighters body. The man had big hairy arms and stubble on his face but David knew that was all the body hair he had.

David was only thirteen but he had seen his far share of the world. The world he lived in was nothing but torment and torture. He had come to accept that fact.

He ran his fingers slowly along a long white scar that scratched across his jaw. He frowned and walked into his room, closing and locking the door behind him.

David looked over at the calendar that he had hung up on his wall and smiled. It was his friends birthday.

Said friend had tried to kill himself and David knew very well that it was his fault. He's told him to do it and how horrible he was for failing at it. He started to count how many times Rose or Jade would tell him that it happened again.

_One..._

_Two..._

_Three..._

_Four..._

_Five..._

David sat down at his computer, the breeze that came in through the window ruffled the unshaved part of his hair.

He unlocked his computer and opened pesterchum. John was online and he smiled. He started to type quickly on his computer, sending a few messages before John went offline and jade came online.  
Footsteps slowly faded in behind him as he laughed. "Bro what do you want? I told you that you should..." David trailed off as he spun in his chair, his eyes widening. An older, taller version of himself stood infront of him. He was in bright red pajamas, a cape swaying behind him. His hair was dyed a dark red, hanging over his aviator shades. "Woah.."

The other Dave pulled a sword from seemingly nowhere and within a flash, it was at Davids neck. "Woah is damn right you piece of shit. How fucking dare you taunt john like that? You do know what he's going to do right?” He growled as David grinned, backing up from his attacker, his hands up. “He's going to kill himself right?” He practically purred, the words dripping from his mouth like cynical butter.

Dave slowly lowered his weapon. The sun hit his glasses at such an angle that his eyes could be seen. Vengeance and grief flashed, swirling around the crimson red. “Yes he is. And its your fault. You are going to pay for this… In the only way, you deserve it.”  
  
David rolled his eyes and leaned back. "So what? It's funny. You should think so too, you're an older me right?" David smirked and looked up at him. "You wish I was kid. But I'm so much more than just another Dave.” Dave growled and stabbed his sword through Davids foot. “So don't tell me what I am”

  
David yelled out in pain and gasped, moving to try and grab the blade as it was yanked out. “Jezus christ! What the fuck!” David grabbed onto his foot, the crimson liquid flowing through his fingers and dripping onto the carpet. His hands shook as he struggled to breathe, the cut throbbing with pain.

  
“You will go back and fucking fix this. Or ill just do what to you what John did to himself.” Dave growled. “He deserved it. He got what was fucking coming dude! I'm surprised he to-” David was cut off, eyes widening as the double-sided blade was plunged into his neck and through the chair, pinning the young strider to his own chair. He coughed and sputtered, choking on the blood that bubbled up his throat. It spilled over his pale white shirt and puddled at his thighs, soaking in the fabric as Dave stood and watched quietly before leaving just as quickly as he arrived. Davids eyes flickered behind his triangular shades, the fear and desperation slowly fading. 

David Strider, Dead.


End file.
